“‘P. S.—Mother, dear, I guess I’ll have to have still another Thought Book. I never in my life had so many thoughts. They come crowding in—one on top of the other—but many of them are the kind you can’t very well express.
“‘P. A. W.
“‘P. P. S.—I can shoot a bottle all to pieces at thirty yards. Don’t you call that pretty good?
“‘P. A. W.’”
“Rustle?” soliloquized Mrs. Winthrop, as Priscilla’s father folded the letter. “I’ve never heard 48 that word before in such a connection, and she’s used it twice!”
“Well,” announced Alden Winthrop decidedly, “I’ve never had much use for Thought Books, but I believe I could write down a thought or two myself if I’d trapped a Rocky Mountain bear!”